Windows to their Soul
by MuseOfOrpheus
Summary: Regret sometimes come in the middle of the night. Hawke betrays Fenris to Danarius, but the matter isn't so easily forgotten as she thinks.
1. Hawke

His eyes.

Those forest green eyes have always been so capable of showing emotion. He was never one of many words, but if you knew him well enough, you could read his entire heart in his eyes. People say eyes are the windows to the soul. I never truly believed that….until I met him.

The stars are so bright tonight. A thousand diamonds spilling across the inky darkness in a constant flow. Just like on the night we first met.

We didn't meet in the best of circumstances. I was barely scraping by as a hired mercenary, trying to forget what happened in Lothering. He was escaping slavery and a past he barely remembered. From the first moment our eyes met, there was a connection between us. Perhaps it was the lyrium that coursed though both of our veins. Perhaps there was a common purpose that united us. But whatever it was, an unspoken alliance was formed. And it was there and then our fates were decided for us.

From the very beginning, it was obvious we would fight like rabid dogs. I was a mage, and he had been tortured by magic for as long as he remembered. The disgust he had for my fellow mages made me confused and frustrated. I tried to make him understand, tried to explain. But how could one explain the beauty of something to someone who has always seen it as an evil? He never truly understood. To the very end, he held on to his belief that magic was a sin. The fiery hatred that burned in his eyes when he spoke of magic frightened me.

There were times when the savage beast was calmed. When the humanity in him came out. In those moments, I was not sure what to think. Who was he, really? Was he a beast or a man? Sometimes he would surprise me with an act of tender compassion, or startle me with a rare laugh. In those moments I would find myself holding my breath as if a single disturbance would disrupt the change in him.

But I was constantly reminded of his true nature. There were just some things that would never change. Our relationship was constantly riding on a wave of emotions; one slip and someone would fall. I knew that one day the illusory world we created for ourselves would fall apart. I couldn't possibly sit and wait for that to happen.

Before he was led away, he looked back at me one last time. If he showed anger, or even bitterness and accusation, I would have been able to handle it. I was prepared for it. But instead, the look he gave me was filled with sadness and hopelessness. It was the look of a defeated man, the eyes of a dead soul. It was as if I shattered his heart with those two words.

_Take him_.

I looked away first. There was something so truthful about his gaze, and I couldn't bring myself to answer the question he pleaded with his eyes.

_Why, Hawke? Why? I trusted you, I thought you were different…_

The pouch of coins sat heavily in my hand. A wine-red velvet. The color of love…and of deception. The weight of the money sat heavily on my mind and my heart. It is a burden I would carry all my life.

I told myself it was bound to happen. That if he was in my place, he would have done the same. It was only a matter of time before he turned me in to the Templars. I was simply the one who got there first. Our volatile relationship wasn't meant to last; it was built on a rivalry, and it was fated to end that way. Destiny decided my soul would be the one to be tainted with blood money and betrayal.

I tried to believe myself. Tried to convince myself that it was better this way. But at times like this, in the dead of night, I still wonder if things might have been different for us. If we could have had a chance to be together.

The sun will rise in a few hours, and life will go on. There will ever be demons to defeat and damsels to rescue, for that's just how the world is. And I will have to pick up my staff and charge into the fight, just as I have always done. But he won't be at my side.

They say people are bound to make mistakes. They say there's always going to be one regret that haunts dreams and thoughts until you reach the grave.

For me, it's his eyes.


	2. Fenris

Her eyes.

They were as pure as the summer's sky. She seemed so naïve and innocent at first. So easy to manipulate. Perhaps that was why she was the one who took up the bait to provide the distraction for my pursuers. When I asked her for aid again, I assumed she would be easy to cast aside and silence with a bag of gold. She was a tool, nothing more.

But then she did become more. When I offered her my services in payment for helping me escape, I didn't think she would ever take up the offer. No one would willingly keep a runaway slave from the Imperium by their side unless they were crazy, or desperate. She was probably both.

I'm not supposed to remember her. I'm not supposed to remember anything at all. My memory is supposed to be gone, erased. But tonight, it all came back to me.

I saw her as a madwoman trying to make a fortune off the streets of Kirkwall at first. So when she introduced her companions to me, I was only slightly surprised. Her ragged gang consisted of an assortment of apostates to match herself,a cross-bow wielding dwarf, that guardswoman who obviously wasn't concerned about associating herself with law-breakers. Certainly not the most feared gang in Kirkwall. If I were to join them, so be it. If she wanted nothing more than my sword from me, I had no complaints.

If only it was so simple. Over time, I began to understand why she was here and what her cause was. Not only was she a mage, but she was also one of those rebels who insist on defying the Chantry and let all mages run free. She was crazy. Time and time again, I have made it clear I want no part in the rebelion she was forming. I have made my disapproval clear, and yet she insists on dragging me along. It was as if she knew I was powerless over the decisions she was making.

And yet, through all this, I began to see how strong she was. The siren call of bloodmagic had no hold over her, and she held her ground through the toughest of times. There was a kind of bravery in her that made me envious.

Then I realized. I love her. Love was, and still is, something I don't understand. Anger, hatred, desperation; these are simple and straightforward feelings, feelings I fully grasp the meaning of.

This love made me feel so…weak. I had no control over it, and yet it had complete control over me. It haunted my dreams, plagued my every step. So in the end, I gave in. I surrendered to those sapphire eyes, that wry smile. And for a time, I was happier than I have ever been my entire life. There was still danger at every turn, and every day presented new opportunities to die, but I felt free. Felt a freedom I never felt before.

And yet, this was not the case. I was not free. But this time, I went into captivity willingly. There were times when I could have gotten away and lived a free man forever, yet I came back to Hawke every time. It was she who held me here. And it was this weakness that betrayed me in the end.

She wouldn't look at me. Was she so ashamed of me, of herself? I tried to catch her eye as shackles were put on my wrists. I needed to see her eyes, one last time. I needed to understand why she was doing this.

Looking back, everything becomes obvious. Perhaps I knew the entire time, and simply tried to brush the thought away. The truth was, love has power, but there are things that are more powerful. Like honor. And duty.

I felt no belligerence. Nor did I hold any malice towards her. What has been done is done; holding regrets over it would not change anything.

I should have known better than to trust anyone. I shouldn't have let my guard down. Perhaps I deserve this fate then; I had allowed my weakness to get the better of me. Stupid, stupid thing to do. Now I must pay the price for it.

Danarius had my memory erased again, and life goes back to what it was before, but I'm not sure this state could be called _living_. I was simply not dying. There are times like now when I would wake in the middle of the night, and suddenly it would all come back to me, all the joy and happiness in those years. And it was painful. It was painful to remember, and yet my sanity clutches at those moments like a drowned man hanging on for his life. I sit back and vainly try to hold on to those moments, but by morning I have forgotten again.

I can no longer remember the sound of her voice, or the shape of her face. The years spent with Hawke are hazy, faded like a dream. When morning comes, I can't even remember her name.

And yet, there is just one thing I can't forget.

Those innocent blue eyes.


End file.
